The Fifth Oracle
by CG
Summary: Set in a medieval elseworld, our heroes live seemingly normal lives. However, with the return of the dark one, this serenity is about to be sent into chaos with the discovery of the fifth oracle.  ::dances around:: New chapter and an interlude!
1. Beginning of a Legend

The Very Magical Disclaimer- NEWS FLASH: I don't own X-Men! I know this may come as a surprise to you but I don't! Lol!  
Summary- In a Medieval reality, our heroes are scattered across the Kingdom of Xodus living relatively normal lives until a prophesy draws them all together to the same destiny.   
Genre: Fantasy, although there is romance galore! Rogue/Gambit, Logan/Storm, Jean/Scott. It's just that falling in love is NOT the point of this fanfic, so I guess it's more fantasy than romance. It starts out rather mushily though.  
Rating- PG-13 minor violence, mild, non-explicit sex, and a little language. Nothing too bad at all.  
Author's Note: I'm not a huge X-Men fan, mostly because I've never gotten around to reading the comics. I enjoyed the movie ::gets flogged by the purists:: and have practically memorized the Ultimate X-Men guide published by DK that my brother owns. Also, I made sure to read other fanfics first to get a better idea of people's personalities. I think I did a pretty good job and considering this IS an otherworld fanfic, you can't flog me for too much. I just had this really great idea so sue me! Remember! I live off of feedback **HINT HINT**  
Finally, without further ado:  
  
**The Fifth Oracle**  
  
--One: Beginning of a Legend--  
  
Unblinking, the Lady Grey stepped into the candle-lit room of the oracle. The room was dome-shaped made of carved wood, accented with gold and silver lacquer. A dozen candles -twelve being the holy tempest number, surrounded the oracle, who sat, snow hair falling behind her dark shoulders, in a seeming trance on a crimson pillow of satin. She wore the silver robe of the storms, long and loose about her body, flowing like her hair as both hair and garment blew in an unseen wind. She was the storm, the one who could communicate with Lightena, the goddess of tempests. Only the oracle could bring the goddess' wishes to light and save them all. But the Lady Grey did not always know her as the Oracle of Storms; she knew the oracle once had a name, a life, a home, and friends.  
  
"Jean," the oracle whispered.  
  
"Hello Ororo," Lady Jean said happy to see her old friend once again. Since Ororo had become the Oracle of Storms and protector of the city of Tempest, she had not set foot into the outside world. Ororo's power of storms made the people of the kingdom believe that she had the power of communication with Tempest's patron goddess, Lightena, and therefore, she imprisoned in this tiny building so that she could concentrate on her communication with the goddess.   
  
"Jean, how is the world outside? What has gone on?" Ororo's emotion burst forth from her trance. Oracle or not, the lack of human contact killed her inside and she longed to hear of the world she once walked freely.  
  
"The King continues to age and there's more and more talk of whom his successor will be," Jean sighed, "although there is little doubt as to whom King Charles will choose." There was obvious sorrow and fear in her voice.  
  
"You do not wish Scott to be King?"  
  
"Oh! It's not that at all," Jean said quickly, "If it will make him happy, then that's what I want for him but...but..."  
  
"You do not wish to rule, is that it?" Ororo asked knowingly.  
  
"But what can I do? I cannot leave Scott, but I cannot be confined to a palace! I cannot take the responsibility of an entire kingdom on my shoulders!"  
  
"You would be a wonderful Queen," the oracle assured her, "You have the sight."  
  
Jean sighed at the mention of the gift which she was born with. It was a gift of sight into the minds of others. It was a powerful gift that could be useful in diplomacy.  
  
"But I don't want to be Queen!"  
  
"Don't worry, Jean, I'm sure things will all work out for the better. And besides, Goddess willing, his majesty has many more years before either you or Scott have to start worrying."  
  
Jean nodded and hung her head, wishing she wouldn't have to worry about it ever.  
  
"What do the families of the houses of Phoenix and Cyclops have to say about the soon-to-come union of their heirs?" Ororo tried to change the subject to happier shadows in the tangled life of the heir of the House of Phoenix, Lady Jean Grey. Ever since she was young, she had been madly in love with the heir of the Lord of the house of Cyclops, Scott Summers. As if a fairy tale come true, he had fallen for her just as hard.   
  
"We are still not officially engaged," Jean sighed, "His parents...the Lord and Lady of Cyclops want to wait until..." she sniffed and tried to regain control, "his coronation."  
  
"Confident, aren't they?"  
  
"I wish they weren't."   
  
"At least they approve of the union. Aristocracies can be so picky about their children. When Young Lady Rogue of the House of Miracles fell for that common thief...oh I can't remember his name!"  
  
"I don't think his name was ever brought to the open. The Lord and Lady did not wish to shame their house any more. Yet, I still don't see the shame of being in love. Had Scott been a thief, he would still be Scott, would he not?"  
  
Ororo nodded her head, "They do not understand, do they? Speaking of which, how has young Rogue faired lately?"  
  
"Worse than ever. The touch is strong with her, and it kills her inside."  
  
Ororo shook her head with sorrow. Out of all the magic charms to be born with, the touch was by far the worst. One with the touch would suck the essence of whomever their skin came in contact with.   
  
Jean continued, "It is even worse now. As you know, five of the five cities of Xodus have their sovereign oracles to speak with the gods and goddesses. There is the Oracle of Time, the Oracle of Beasts, the Oracle of Light and you, the Oracle of Storms. For a while, in fact, not since the prophecy made long ago, there has been no fifth oracle. The oracle of change. Surely you know the legend."  
  
Ororo had heard it more times than she wished.  
  
_Long ago, when the Kingdom of Xodus was created, it was full of danger. There was the constant struggle of two: the commons and those born different. There could be no peace until the five oracles came. The oracles brought the X. No one was quite sure what X was exactly, but they were pretty sure that it was a group of warriors whom set everything right. Soon, after, four of the oracles were destroyed, but the fifth lived on, to give the final prophesy for eons. She had been beautiful, auburn-haired, green eyed, and extremely intelligent. Her last words of prophecy were as follows:  
  
THE X WILL RETURN TO STOP THE DARK ONE. THEY THINK THEY KNOW THEMSELVES, BUT NEVER WILL UNTIL THEY ARE TOGETHER. WILL WE KNOW. WHEN THE FIFTH IS DISCOVERED, DISASTER AND LIGHT WILL CLASH IN A FIREY FLAME OF X.  
  
With those words, the fifth died and with that began a new era. An era of piece and prosperity. But this was not to last. The Dark One was coming...his presence being felt more and more every day with the increasing tension between the commons and those born different. The X's would soon resurface. That is why for years now; the position of the stars on the birth of every girl had been examined. To find the four oracles who would start the battle again, to find the catalyst who would initiate the change: the fifth oracle.  
_   
Ororo stammered, "They don't think Lady Rogue is the..."  
  
Jean nodded solemnly.  
  
"But she can't be! She'd destroy herself in the process. She's lived in the outside world for too long and is too independent to be confined to a single room," Ororo burst out. That is what they had done to her too, caught her too late when her claustrophobia had developed. She had gone through hell getting used to her new surroundings, finding her only safety when she went into a trance to find an answer from the goddess.  
  
"But it's so dangerous! We don't know what will happen if the fifth oracle is returned to her temple!"  
  
Jean nodded sadly. She was just as worried about Rogue as Ororo.  
  
"Where is Rogue now?" the oracle asked returning to her usual calm self.  
  
Jean sighed, "Where do you think she'd go?"  
  
"You don't mean..."  
  
"Yes, she ran."  
  
****  
  
A rooster crowed in the distance, awaking the man with the morning sun, copper hair covering his eyes. He blinked and then panicked momentarily as his body was bumped upward and then landed back in the pile of straw he had been sleeping in. It only took him a moment to realize that the cart of straw, which he had chosen as his bed for the night, was moving. Probably being driven by some poor drunken farmer who didn't note the prescience of the man. No matter. The man sat up, facing the back of the cart and noticed immediately that the sun was behind him. His crimson eyes twinkled in delight.  
  
"Luck be wit' de Gambit thief aujourd'hui, non?" he laughed. The cart was heading east, just the way he needed to go. Judging by the road, it would only be a few more hours until they reached the City of Miracles.   
  
He was known as The Gambit Thief, as charming and mysterious as he was dangerous. Often, he bragged of having the ability to rob any duke or pompous lord not only of their wealth, but their lady as well! And quite possibly, he wasn't exaggerating. Muscular, trim and skilled, the Gambit Thief was no man to mess with. At a young age, he had been adopted by a master thief and raised in the art of trickery. Since then, he had traveled around, been a nowhere man, stole whatever he pleased, and rather enjoyed it. There were many women he had called ma chère, and then left them in their beds, lonely, in the morning. But something had changed in him, and drew him to the east. Now, he was making his way to what he hoped was his destiny.  
  
He leaned back in the straw, placing his hands behind his head and closing his eyes, enjoying the warm caress of the sunlight on his face and stomach. It was not far to the City of Miracles. It was not far until he saw her again.   
  
***  
  
He waited in the shadow for news of the outside world. Known only as The Dark One, his plans to restore the once unbearable chaos to Xodus. Slowly, a figure with flowing white hair strolled into his underground chamber. He grinned as she melted into blue, glistening flesh and then stood up again, a beautiful woman with glistening sapphire skin.   
  
"Tell me, Mystique," said the Dark One. It was not a request, "Tell me everything."  
  
***  
  
A handsome black stallion being rode by an even more handsome young man overtook Lady Jean Grey's chestnut mare.   
  
"Scott!" she said with surprise.  
  
"Jean! Where have you been? You simply vanished this morning!"  
  
"I was visiting Ororo," she explained.  
  
"Tell me about it," he requested.  
  
"Soon. Come riding with me first!"  
  
"But it's nearly noon time, and our parents will expect us home!"  
  
"Scott! You talk of being the next king and then worry about returning home for midday meal! You're not a child anymore! I'm not a child any more!"  
  
He pensive smile crossed his lips.  
  
"Come!" urged Lady Jean, "Ride with me to the pond we used to play in when we were children!"  
  
"But we are supposed to dine with the king himself!"  
  
"He'll understand! Please Scott! I have not spent time alone with you since there was all this talk of you being King Charles' successor. I miss you Scott," she pleaded.   
  
"Well..."  
  
Jean winked, "We could always go for swimming."  
  
Scott smiled.  
  
"I'll race you!" she said in a burst of girlish laughter and started her mare, Tigue, up at a full gallop.  
  
Scott started up after her, grinning with mirth. His horse, Star slash, was one of the fastest in the land, and he prided himself on being one of the finest horsemen in the country. He was determined to win. However, most women did not ride as well as Lady Jean Grey. They darted off in the distance, giggling like school children and playfully hurling insults at each other.  
  
"Can't you ride any faster than that, one eye?!" Jean called back at Scott as she reached the small grassy knoll above Midsummer Pond, a treasured place for the both of them, as it was the place they had met at the age of six.   
  
Scott grinned at her, and playfully pushed Jean. She used the momentum he gave her, and exaggerated it, purposely falling off her horse. In midair, she grabbed his hand and dragged him down with her. Giggling they rolled together down the knoll and fell into the pond with a splash so large the horses reared with shock as they were showered, and with fear for their masters. But the happy couple surfaced, entangled in each other's arms as they made their way to the bank of the pond. Scott pulled them both up and they lay there on the bank for a moment catching their breath. He sat up and leaned over her. She blinked at him with her alluring emerald eyes.   
  
"You're all wet," he whispered.  
  
"So are you. We can't possibly dine at the king's court in sopping wet clothes."  
  
"I guess we're just going to have to hang them up to dry then."  
  
Jean leaned up and answered him with a kiss. The couple fell into each other's arms, embracing.   
  
***  
  
"Ah can't let them find me now," Lady Rogue thought as she rode her white stallion, Sugah, toward the royal palace. She needed help, desperately, and there was only one person whom she felt could help her now, the captain of the royal guard. Though it may seem his duty to turn her in, Rogue knew him better then that. Or at least she hoped she did.   
  
It was the heir of the House of Miracle's second time away from their estate, and she was terrified out of her wits. What if she were to be robbed? The first time she had left home to spend a day in the market place, she had been attacked by a thief. He had robbed her of something more important then her money or jewelry. He had stolen her heart away.  
  
***  
  
The couple lay together on the bank, enjoying the heat of the sun and each other. It was a beautiful afternoon with azure skies and just a few pillow-soft clouds that did not threaten to rain. The pond was secluding and calm, a secret spot known only to a select few. Jean wished they could lay there forever.  
  
Scott kissed her neck, "We really should go."  
  
She sighed, "I guess we can't keep the king waiting much longer."  
  
"It's been bad enough keeping him waiting this long, not that I can say I regret it." Scott began to rise but then lay down again and looked into Jean's eyes. "Jean," he whispered her name.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Promise me that you'll never leave me."  
  
"I've promised you that many times, Scott."  
  
"Promise me again."  
  
"Alright then, I promise you for now and always."  
  
"Even if you don't wish to be queen?" he asked.  
  
Jean sighed. Her sight should have told her what brought on his sudden question.  
  
*Scott* she used the sight to whisper words in his head *I love you and that's all that matters whether I wish to rule or not. I love you Scott, and I'll follow you anywhere you wish to go*  
  
Scott smiled and extended a hand to help her stand. They dressed and mounted their horses, making their way to the king's court for the noontime meal they were already late for.   
  
***  
  
What may seem a serene day even now had the overtones of desperation. Ororo's fear, Jean's dreaded thoughts of her future as queen, Rogue's desperate escape all laced serenity and new beginnings with fear. But the most terrible of all was the Dark One, waiting and waiting. Whom did he seek? How did he wish to restore the chaos? All in time, this would be revealed with the occurrence of a single happening: the return of the fifth oracle.   



	2. Interlude: Letter at Midnight

Author's note: So how's everyone liking the story so far? This is NOT Chapter 2, but simple an interlude. In some books, between chapters, there is something like a newpaper clipping or a letter that is important to the story. Same idea. Thank you so much everyone who's reviewed it so far ^_^ I've had so much fun reading everyone's comments, even the constructive critisism. Peregrine, while I like your idea, I have the whole story in my head and I'm not really planning on changing it. It's a really cool idea though, don't get me wrong ^_^. Hopefully I'll have chapter 2 done tonight or tomorrow, and there's actually a pretty good chance of it too ^_^ Until then, huggles, brownies, and happy reading. -CG ^_^  
  
  
--Interlude: letter at midnight--  
  
  
Written from the pen of the Lady Rogue:  


  
_Dearest thief of my heart,  
  
'Twas a year and a day ago you left with the promise to return. So much has happened in a year. Ah wish ah could say that it all was wonderful, but to do so would be a lie. Why couldn't you have stayed? Why did you have to return and set things strait. Mah parents would have disapproved, but ah'm sure we could have passed you off for the lord of some otha' royal kingdom, far, far away from Xodus. Then we could have been wed and lived happily, normally, in a story-book Cinderella romance. But you had your duties as a...gentleman. Ah understand that. By the time you read this, two days from today - the day you promised to return to me, remember-the blessed day Ah've waited for so long, I'll be gone. Gone. What a cruel daemon fate is! Ah have waited an eternity for your return, only to be forced to flee within mere moments of bliss. It would be the sweetest dream to stay, stay at least long enough for you to hold me for a brief, blissful moment, but with this oracle business, to stay would've been murder for me, please try an' understand that.   
  
Since ya left, mah world has died, don't you see? Mah parents are ashamed of mah love for you, mah precious thief. Ah can live with shame, but they couldn't. They were always afraid of failures, ya know. When they found Ah was one born different, they confined me to the house. Ah always used to think dat was the worst thing they could do to me, seeing as no otha differently born person Ah know has had such confinement, but Ah was wrong. They found a way to ignore ma shame, and bring it to glory, but kill me in the process. Dey did something they felt they should have done long ago, checked my birth stars. Did ya know, dat with the birth of each baby, the stars move a bit? Ah didn't know until they told me. And it seems dat the stars on mah birth matched one perfectly. It was rather strange-Ah don't think Ah can explain the feeling. Ah went to bed Lady Rogue, heir of the House of Miracles, and then Ah woke up an oracle. But not just any oracle, ya must understand, the fifth oracle: the oracle of change. Ah would have been content living with all the shame and guilt in the world with you by my side, and never have a brief moment of glory.   
  
Do Ah believe in the oracles? Ah don't know. Ah believe in the five goddesses, but Ah'm not sure Ah believe that five women born under certain star patterns have the ability to speak to them. Ah'm not sure Ah believe in a period of darkness and chaos which was broken when the five oracles came togeatha. Ah'm not sure Ah believe that to break the chaos, the five oracles created something mysterious that is only referred to as X in these days. Ah'm not sure that I believe the chaos will return again at the hands of something called "The Dark One". Sure, Ah've noticed there is general unrest revolving around those born different. Ah've heard the threats of succeeding from Xodus if Lord Scott Summers becomes the next king (not many know dat our great King Charles Xavier is secretly one born different). But it couldn't have ever been much better than that. Not even ma parents remember when those born different were treated any more equal to the normal folks. But, mah sweet thief, what makes them any more normal than us. Just because we were born with strange powers doesn't make us abnormal. We eat. We sleep. We breathe. We walk. We love.  
  
So, mah prince of thieves, the thief of mah heart, when you come up to mah room on two nights from now to claim me as yours for once and for always, and take me with you to your kingdom of thieves and assassins, only to find it empty of me, please do not think it is because Ah do not love you. Ah do love you. Ah love you with every inch of mah broken heart. A year couldn't change that. An eternity couldn't change that. It is because Ah have decided that I will be a woman and not an oracle. Ah will never be what they want me to be just for their own glory whilest I suffer in solitude. Ah've lived in a mansion for mah entire life. Ah played that game. Ah've sucepted to my powers and lived without being able to touch anyone. But Ah will never sucept myself to living in a temple the size of a gazebo for all my life tryn' to speak to someone who won't answer. So Ah fled before you could steal me. Ah've given in to too much at the expense of myself, and Ah won't give up any more. If you can find me, that is, if you still have the desire to look for me, and you find me, and you still wish to have me, Ah will not hesitate to join you. Ah will be the woman and not the oracle. Ah cannot afford to sit around and wait for you, mah prince charming, Ah just cannot. Ah've done what Ah had to do and nothing more. Ah do love you though, don't ever question that. Until we meet again, if we ever do meet again -yet how depressing that sounds: if we ever meet again. Do Ah have enough faith in love that we will? Ah'm not sure. Ah'm not sure of anything anymore. But, goddesses willing... fate willing...you willing, we will meet again, somehow, somewhere, and some place. That's at least a bit of hope Ah can cling to.  
  
_

_With love and hope,  
Your Lady Rogue_


	3. Those Born Different

**Author's note**- Well, sorry for the delay! Blame my history teacher with her over-the-weekend 5 page w/ visual aid! I'm really encouraged by the reviews so far ::huggles all the reviewers:: I gave Scott parents in this chapter, just because it makes the story flow smoother. I get an artistic liscence, right? Just a note, if anyone ever wants to chat or email me about absolutely anything, be it fanfic talk, or complaining about your looser boyfriend, the email is umi_watersprite@hotmail.com, and the aim address is cgdragonfly. I love making e pals so feel free, I'd love to hear from you. Maybe swap some fanfic tips??? ^_^ -CG P.S.- Anyone know of a good cure for writer's block that works faster than 'the eurika phenomena'?  
**Warning**- this chapter gets a little violent. No graphic ripping of guts out though, don't worry. Oh yes, more mushy romantic fluff stuff. If you hate mushy fluff stuff run away. If you especially hate mushy fluff stuff that has to do with Rogue/Remy then run even faster. Oh yes, Jean is rather cliché in this chapter I think. Oh well. You've been warned!!!!!!!!  


  
  


--Chapter 2: Those Born Different--  
  
Brightly colored market stalls filled with even brighter wares made up the bazaar of the City of Miracles. Even the worldly thief was surprised at the wealth. There were amazing trinkets wherever you looked. There were combs to hold up ladies' hair made of jade and ivory inlaid with mother of pearl, emerald, ruby, sapphire, and other precious gems. Not far was a market stall selling handsome swords and daggers in copper, steal or bronze scabbards plated with gold and silver, studded with an equally impressive mixture of jewels, and the weapons themselves were made of the finest craftsmanship he had ever seen. Next-door lay the stand of an old spinster from the Orient selling skeins of exotic silks and satins in every imaginable shade, along with fine, silken wool threads finer than that of a spider's. In the poultry stall, plump, snow-white and sandy feathered hens and geese squawked in a whining tone to the thief as he walked past, over to the next row of wonders. Ruby, ripe apples dripped with the gooey buttery caramel next to tiny, rich truffles of good, sweet chocolate. The bazaar was truly filled with small miracles - all for the taking of a thief. After passing the apothecary's stall filled with reeking warm root and witch hazel, he felt it was a safe enough distance to bite into his "borrowed" taffy apple. He grinned as the juice trickled down his chin, and wiped it off with the sleeve of his red-brown tunic. "Thank les dieux for miracles!"  
  
After surveying the place, he decided on his plan of attack. He spun on the heal of his worn black boots and without drawing much attention to himself, made the bazaar his own personal playground.   
  
"Fresh cut flowers! Six pence a dozen!" an ancient woman with streaks of white in her already silver-ash hair. She looked like an elderly fairy queen surrounded by fragrant magnolias, crimson roses more precious than the largest rubies, dainty blue bells, fiery, wild snapdragons, strong, pale-hued lavender for sachets, and delicate orchids, all dancing in delight. Make that a desperate fairy queen. He thought of his "lady in waiting". Sighing in defeat, he dropped six pence in the woman's hand and bought a bunch of the pearly white magnolias. He placed them in his sack, with the blossoms sticking out of the top, carefully placing the stems to the side of his newly "found" trinkets which would eventually cost some merchants fortunes. He justified it with the idea that they were rich enough.  
  
Ducking behind one of the numerous stalls, he stopped and opened his sack. Removing his brown tunic, he changed into a brighter, wealthier appearing tunic of scarlet and black embroidered with golden threads. Over that, he slipped a suit of flashing and clanking chain mail of the finest craftsmanship. He replaced his black leather belt, this time slipping a ruby encrusted dagger through the hilt. Proudly, flung a crimson cape over his shoulders and set out back into the main roads of the market. Passing a magician's wagon with a single silver mirror, the handsome thief delighted in his reflection.  
  
"Oui! They don't call me 'Le Beau' for noutin'!" V   
He was ready for sunset.  
  
***  
  
Jean had changed into a silken day-gown of a rich emerald green, meant to flatter her eyes, which was trimmed with an even more vibrant satin ribbon that gleamed with the essence of shamrocks. On her head she placed a white, silken headpiece, that encircled her glorious red ringlets like a crown of flowers that had been wrapped with ribbon of the same hue as the trim of the dress, with two streamers hanging off in the back playing in her fiery locks. Scott, dressed in tunic, breeches, cape, and hat of sapphire blue with the ruffled lapels so fashionable at the time and embroidered with silver and gold threading, a complimenting plume arising from the hat, escorted her in to the luncheon to which they were late to the point where it was not fashionably so. They were a beautiful couple; the only thing marring their appearance in the slightest was the steal band Scott wore around his eyes with holes cut out where transparent ruby glass was placed. Lord Scott Summers, like Jean, was one born different, except he was born with a power known as 'the seeing'. Despite the similarity of the names, the seeing was entirely different from the sight. The seeing was a rare and strong power of being able to shoot beams of energy from the eyes. Because of this, Scott was forced to wear this protective headgear at all times. They had no word for it, as glasses had not been invented yet.   
  
"I do apologize for our tardiness," he said, speaking for Jean as well.   
  
It appeared that the disapproving Lords and Ladies from the houses of Cyclops and Phoenix, who were the parents of Scott and Jean, were about to speak, but King Xavier managed to say a word before either house could scold.  
  
"It is no matter, I am just happy my guests of honor could make it!" he smiled knowingly. He was a good king, born with the same power as Jean, the sight. Unlike most of those born different, however, his power had been kept a secret. He had not been publicly shamed like the others. Therefore, he managed to become king without much trouble. He knew, although it hurt him to think so, that Scott would not have a carefree reign. But Scott was strong and with Jean by his side, he would be able to keep the kingdom united and prosperous for many years to come. He did not mind the tardiness, for despite his respect for courtesy, manners and tradition, he knew the need in the lives of young people to have fun.  
  
"We rode to the City of Miracles to pay respects to the Lord and Lady because of the disappearance of their daughter," Jean excused herself.  
  
"Scott escorted you?" Her mother asked warningly, knowing of her daughter's independent tendencies to go off riding without an escort.  
  
"But of course m'lady!" Scott answered.  
  
"What took you both so long?" Jean's Father, Lord Grey asked.  
  
"I tried to take a shortcut and lost my way, it is my fault I'm afraid, my lord," Scott lied through his teeth.  
  
"One would think a future king would know every path in his kingdom," it was Scott's father, Lord Summers', turn to be angry.  
  
"Enough!" King Xavier did not approve of the constant nagging of Lord and Lady Summers and Lord and Lady Grey. They would have enough things to worry about in their lives that were twice as important than any of this escort nonsense. That, of course, the young couple didn't know now, but would find out soon enough. "May I remind you, Lord Summers, that I am not dead yet, and will not be for quite some time. Enough time, might I note, for Scott to learn every inch of the kingdom."  
  
Even the powerful man shrunk back at the word of the king.  
  
*Thank you* Jean spoke in thought speech to King Xavier.  
  
*Next time, watch the position of the sun, so we need not get into such arguments over tardiness* Xavier thought back, noting Jean's creeping blush. She knew he would find out anyway. It was impossible to keep anything from one born different blessed with the sight, even if you were blessed with the sight yourself.   
  
Scott took the place of honor at the left of the king, and Jean, who typically would taken the other seat of honor at the king's right, preferred to sit next to her beloved. "I believe there is an extra seat, your majesty," she said, noticing that the empty setting at the king's right.  
  
"Ah yes, I was hoping that the captain of my guard would be interested in joining us."  
  
Scott grimaced. "You don't mean Sir Logan, do you, your majesty?"  
  
Jean and the king had to restrain themselves from laughing. They both knew of Scott's contempt for the brave captain of the guard.   
  
He walked in, with a step unique to himself, wild yet regal. He was a short, muscular man with nearly as much hair as the animal whose nickname he bore. In battle, his ferociousness earned him the title, "the wolverine". Secretly, he was one born different, processing a power called the heal, which would heal every wound inflicted on himself, a useful skill for a captain of the guards, and also the wild spirit, a sort of animal instinct that included an acute sense of smell and hearing. He nodded at the king, sort of half glared and half bowed his head at Scott, and then bowed before Jean, taking her hand to his mouth.   
  
"Good to see ya again, Darlin' Jean."  
  
Scott was about to speak, but Jean stopped him with a warning in thought speech. She knew that despite Sir Logan's attraction to her, part of the reason he kept up his flirtations was to piss off Scott, or as he was commonly referred to by the gruff captain, "One-eyed King Jr.".  
  
"I believe it is impolite to address a lady of her status in such a common manner, Sir Logan," a warning came from Lord Grey.  
  
Sir Logan took no heed and simply sat in his seat. If the king hadn't been sitting right there, he would have told off the man real good. Royalty Smoilty.  
  
The king ignored the comment as well. "Well, now that we all are here, I suggest that we propose a toast! To our future rulers!"  
  
Glasses were raised but never clanked. A brown-cloaked messenger, whose outfit featured the family crest of Cyclops in the corner, stumbled in with an arrow lodged in his shoulder.  
  
"My Lord, M'lady, please do forgive the intrusion. Protests. Wild ones. With arrows and swords. An torches!"  
  
A panic stricken look and a gasp arose from the diners. They knew that many objected to Scott being the king's successor, simply because he was a known mutant. He often wished that he had decided to somehow keep his powers secret, but that was impossible because he always had to wear protective headgear. There had been threats, yes, but this was an awful, cold-blooded murder attempt on not only Scott and his family, but also the entire family honor.  
  
Scott arose and withdrew his sword.   
  
"Scott!" Lady Summers, his mother protested.  
  
"Mother, I have my honor to defend!"  
  
"Then I'm coming with you!" jaws dropped in shock as Jean arose from the table placing her hand on his hand which held the sword.  
  
"Absolutely no..." Jean's mother, Lady Grey started in protest but it was too late. In a twirl of a full, green skirt and a black, well-polished boot, both Jean and Scott were already out the door of the grand banquet hall and halfway to the stables where their horses awaited. Sir Logan hadn't even waited a moment, and had already mounted and started off on his journey.   
  
In a lightning-fast gallop, Tigue and Star slash had been able to catch up to the Wolverine's gray, dappled stallion, Mariko.   
  
"Since when do you care what happens to me?" Scott asked surprised at the captain's rush.  
  
"Never did. Jus' I feel they got no damn business protesting someone's right to rule when they themselves be asses who've got no betta thing to do then bloody dive into personal matters. The bastards could just as easily be protesting my position. So they have the privilege of tasting adamantium claws!" the wolverine grinned maliciously, unleashing one claw from his pinky.   
  
"A privilege I hope to never have," Scott muttered.   
  
The three continued, speeding up faster and faster until they became blurs streaked through the afternoon toward the nearby city of Monovea, which was the city presided over by the House of Cyclops.  
  
***  
  
The shouts and screams awoke the dark one from slumber. Oh the blessed chaos! Chaos that had returned now only in fleeting moments. He sighed with pleasure at the battle that would soon ensue.   
  
The fifth was thought to have been found, which should have triggered the change by now. But luck was on his side this time. The fifth had fled, leaving the prophesy uncompleted. It was music to his ears.  
  
He smiled thinking that perhaps he should let his "visitor" enjoy this as well.  
  
***  
  
"Looks like the different fled when he heard we were coming," a gruff peasant from the village armed with a sword stood before the awe-inspiring Cyclops mansion. It reached four stories into the sky with tall columns, like something out of the Greek times. It shone with a beautiful light.  
  
The other men with them laughed.  
  
The peasant's laugh was cut short as a huge massive man knocked him over and threatened him with gleaming adamantium claws.   
  
"Y...Y...y...you're a...."  
  
Sir Logan grinned, "A different? Betta believe it bub!"   
  
He picked the man up by the collar and glared at him. "And I think ya otta think twice before messn' with us!"  
  
"Logan! If we fight using our powers, we'll only prove them right!" Jean cried.  
  
"They attacked first!" Sir Logan "the Wolverine" started to fight man to man, blood pulsing and claws flashing. Claw against sword. Metal against metal. Sparks flying into the afternoon air like confused fireflies. Scott charged into the battle armed with sword, shooting several optic blasts in warning. Jean watched in fear, feeling that they were doing the opposite of what they should be doing. She never used her powers when fighting commons who hated those born different. It only proved them right.  
  
A hand clamped over her mouth, and she heard a voice whisper in her ear. "So, do we have the King Different's little whore!"   
  
Jean kicked backward, hitting the protestor where it hurt. While he staggered in pain, she reached into a hilt hidden under the cape that she wore and withdrew a rapier. The thin, light fencing sword was beautiful in craftsmanship. It was sturdy, yet virtually weightless and featured a handle laced with gold and gleaming emeralds.   
  
"Do you care to repeat that, my lord?" she said calmly.  
  
By this time, the man had nearly recovered, as Jean did not kick him very hard, only enough to shock.  
  
"I'm so frightened, m'lady, what are you going to do, scream for your different lover to swing around your sword?"  
  
She thrust the tip of her sword inches from the man's throat. "I do not scream, my lord."  
  
"Then what do you do?"   
  
"Fight a fair fight, my lord."  
  
The man withdrew his sword, and stood 'on guard'. "Then do not think I will go any easier on you."  
  
Rapiers clashed, feet flew, one pair nimble and quick in breeches and boots, the other pair somewhat even nimbler in attempt to avoid tripping over her long green skirt.   
  
Metal against metal. Sword against claws. Sword against sword. Rapier against rapier. Sparks flying as the afternoon sky faded into blood red and tropical pink to match the blood spilled on the field. Three born different against a legion of commons.   
  
Jean winced as the sword grazed her arm and tried to ignore the trickling sensation that ran down her arm. She maintained concentration although it was harder for her than the man she fought. Her dress was hot and sweaty, not at all designed for the heat of battle.   
  
Logan jumped from one to the other, many men raging at him, he fighting them off. Claws flared, and wild-minded. He didn't know what scared the protestors more, his strength, or how whenever they managed to pierce his tough skin with their swords, the cut always healed leaving at first a tiny pink streak, and then nothing. Not even a trace.  
  
"Ya've messed with the wrong different one, bub!" he growled.  
  
Scott's honor was at stake. He fought, rotating between optic blasts and sword. With his strong arms, he managed to handle the humongous, 40-pound weapon with ease. They rushed at him more than wolverine, seeing as he was the one they were trying to kill.  
  
As the sunset, the blood spilled on the field matched the sky.  
  
***  
  
She nearly fell off her horse in exhaustion. The sky turned from pale, calm blue to blood red and orange, and gold.   
  
It was not too far from the City of Miracles to the royal palace, if you were taking the main road. Lady Rogue, however, didn't have this luxury. If she took the main road, they would find her for sure. So she had to take the back roads. But the back roads were uneven, and often dangerous through long grass field, over stream and cliff, through forest. She had been riding for two days, and had not stopped to rest or think. Now she stopped her horse, half fell and half dismounted, then lay in the tall, itching wild grass in utter weakness and exhaustion. She was weak from riding; weak from crying; weak from trying to hold back the tears; weak from thinking too much; weak from hunger, from lack of sleep, and from fear. She looked at the glorious sunset and thought about the two days that had passed.   
  
_when you come up to mah room on two nights from now to claim me as yours for once and for always, and take me with you to your kingdom of thieves and assassins, only to find it empty of me_  
  
She trembled when she realized that tonight was the night. Sunset. Now he would be making his way to her room. She would not be there. She could picture him perfectly: copper hair and crimson eyes, and a charming smile. She could picture the way he sounded when he spoke, the delicate accent with mixings of French within. Biting her lip, she tried to keep back the tears.   
  
"No!" she told herself, "Ah will not cry! They'll find me for sure if Ah cry! Ah mustn't cry!"  
  
The stinging salt water ran down her face, and she bit her lip so hard that it began to bleed. Slowly, she pushed herself up and grabbed a fistful of grass. She knew that she wouldn't last if she remained in her week, hungry, sleep-deprived state. A stinging voice in her head begged her to lie down and die of weakness in a broken heart.  
  
"No! He wouldn't want me to do that!"  
  
_we will meet again, somehow, somewhere, and some place. That's at least a bit of hope Ah can cling to._  
  
She ignored the voice and ate the grass, gagging at the taste, but seeing that there was nothing else of possible nutritional value. She forced more and more fistfuls down her throat, knowing that she had to eat something. She had to survive. She looked at the setting sun defiantly.  
  
"Ah don't give about the odds! We will meet again! We will! Ah gotta hang on! If not for myself, for Remy!"  
  
With this thought, she stood up and removed the saddle from her horse. She took the saddle blanket, trying her best to ignore its filthiness and dingy scent. She knew that she couldn't freeze in the cold. She wrapped herself in the blanket. Secretly, she smiled to herself. She doubted that any other woman in the entire kingdom would have been able to survive this long. The blanket stunk, but at least it was warm. She looked at the blood-stained sky and whispered a prayer.  
  
"Please goddesses, let him find me. I don't care how, where, or when. Just let him find me."  
  
With thoughts of him, she drifted off into a much-needed, dreamless sleep.  
  
***  
  
Now in his new "found" finery, the Gambit Thief crept through the courtyard of the miracle estate.   
  
Reaching the wall right below her window, he grabbed onto the trellis which sweet peas climbed, their heavenly scent adding to the mood. The sun had set and now the sky was a deep blue-black with faint, paint-splatter-like stars.  
  
Climbing higher and higher, he finally reached the window and crept in.  
  
"Bonsoir, ma chère!" he said in a debonair whisper.  
  
The room featured an elegantly carved bed with silver-blue silk sheets and a curtained canopy. A beautiful mahogany writing desk graced the directly opposite wall, along with many tapestries woven with fine colorful reds and gold and silver. They showed scenes of mythical, wild, primitive ancient legends, including one that told the legend of the fifth oracle. A vase of pale, sea-green crystal sat on the desk, filled with fragrant, delicate pink roses. The room was beautiful, but it was missing one thing. Rogue.  
  
His scarlet eyes turned to a piece of parchment lying on the writing desk. He picked it up and began to read.  
  
_ Dearest thief of my heart..._   
***  
  
Jean screamed. Blinking rapidly, she awoke completely, realizing where she was. She was in the guest chambers at the mansion of Cyclops. It had been too dark to start out for Embyr, the city which she was from, and Scott had been more than willing to offer her quarters for the night. Despite the warm room, she was still ice cold from the shock of the battle that bloody afternoon. In her head, the thoughts of the man she had killed with her rapier still echoed like a scream in the mountains.   
  
A strong hand rested on her shoulder.  
  
"Are you alright? You were screaming!" obvious worry lay in Scott's eyes.  
  
"I...I...had a vision!" she whispered. It had not been the battle that had haunted Jean's dreams. She was sure of it.  
  
"The sight acting up?"  
  
"Yes." Tears streamed from her eyes and she closed them against the pain.  
  
"Any idea of what it means?"  
  
Jean shook her head, "Only vaguely. I just know that today's battle will not be the last."  
  



	4. Interlude: Jean's Vision

Author's note: This interlude is Jean's vision from the last chapter. Don't worry if it doesn't make too much sense now. It shouldn't ^_^  
  
--Interlude: Jean's Vision--  
  
  
Jean tried to fall asleep, but the vision which had awakened her continued to haunt her.  
  
_"Everyone has at least three powers within," the voice was calm and musical, "the power of their heart, their soul, and their strength. Those born different have four, adding their power. But there is a fifth power. One that can be given, but never taken. It must be given, with freewill, and blessing. If the heart is at all unwilling, then the power may not be given." It was a mysterious voice. Beautiful and ancient, with a sage-like hint.  
  
There was blinding flashes and Jean suddenly felt more power than she ever had in her life. It was like being drunk on power. She was soaring, flying in a sea of omnipotence. Something told her it wasn't right, but it didn't stop her. Suddenly, suddenly she was grounded. Her feet stood on the ground and she was painfully aware of it. Gravity pulled her down, down, she was choking, screaming, the power was leaving her.  
  
She saw swords clash. Sparks flew threw the air. Crimson blood rained down from the sky. Jean couldn't breathe.  
  
"Rogue! Where is Rogue!" her mind jumped.  
  
She was running through lanes of fire, and shadows of black and white. Then everything exploded. A fire in the distance. She could feel a burning sensation all over. A great blast of fire, shaped like the letter X, was all that she saw before her eyes.  
  
"It can never been given if the heart is unwilling..." the voice sounded again.  
  
She sobbed and sobbed, "Let me go!"  
  
She was being held down by the strong gravity, this time her body being pressed into the dirt. It was crushing her. She couldn't even lift a finger. She couldn't protest.  
  
"Help me!"  
  
No one came. _


	5. Journeys

Author's note- I REALLY like this chapter. Why? Because I wrote it after watching Princess Mononoke (which is a GREAT movie) and the full Merlin mini series that was on tv a couple years ago so I kinda got an interesting frame of mind. Oh yes, I agree with many of you, there IS too much Jean. She's not the main character either. So I've added more X-Men to the mix and things will hopefully be even better. Nightcrawler makes an appearance this chapter, and be on the lookout for Kitty and Jubilee coming in either the next or the chapter after. No Jean this chapter, but Rogue, Logan, Gambit and Storm are here. Oh yes, German peoples, or Nightcrawler fans, please don't slaughter me if I do his accent incredibly, embarrassingly wrong. I don't think anyone has time to clean up an excess amount of blood.   
Swear like Gambit- For those of you who desparately want to be able to use the French cuss words in this chapter (or just want to understand what the hell Gambit is saying), here's a handy guide! Merde (which is used in about 9999999999 fanfics) means shit, catin is bitch, and damnent is (unsurprisingly) damn. Oh yes, this isn't a swear word, but un soujourn is like an excursion. This is according to my distant memories of French class (I haven't touched the language since 6th grade), and a handy dandy online English to French dictionary. If it's wrong, you can blame my memory or the dictionary. Your pick.   
  
  
--Chapter 3: Journeys--  
  
  
A few hours before Remy had made his terrible discovery, or Jean had awakened with her clouded vision, there were new beginnings stirring even far from Xodus. Ten miles away, deep in the Elfin forest of Raskque, elves with azure skin ran around the river darting in and out, catching fish, hunting small game and picking burgundy-shaded berries from the plants that grew around it in the light of sunset. They sang merrily and laughed joyously, running and frolicking through their woodland home. While fear and uncertainty shook Xodus, in the Elfin Rodrick clan, there was only rejoicing. Their prince was reaching his sixteenth year, the year of his manhood, and there was to be a great feast in his honor.   
  
All were merry except for one, Lady Viola, a younger elf with long, strait hair held into place with a braided strand of her own hair pinned around her head. Tiny, tiny wisps hung in her pale cerulean face, framing it in an elegant way. Two piercing, on the cartilage of her right ear, marked her as an elf of noble birth. She wore a sleeveless top of snake skin and a tan dyed wrap as a skirt. These clothes would have been scandalous to any human, but elves were forest dwellers and wore more primitive clothing. She sat in front of the river under a lilac tree and stared at her reflection in the crisp cold water, clear and fresh, as a river in spring should be. It did not take a poet to see that she was beautiful, in her own elfish way.  
  
"BAMF" a loud noise sounded behind her.  
  
"Go avay Kurt!"  
  
"Vat's vrong, Viola? I just vanted to see if you vere alright! No need for animosity, ja?" Kurt, a young elf who was one born different. His power was known as the transport. With a loud BAMF he could appear in any place he wished.  
  
"You!" the girl sat up and glared at him, "leave me alone!"  
  
"But vhy Viola? All I vant to do is talk vit you and you alvays refuse!"  
  
"Mien Gott! You got some nerve, ja, to come here ant harass me! Aren't you on the bat side of the clan already?"  
  
Kurt paled at this, but decided to stay strong. He had seen the wet shimmer in her eyes and realized why she hadn't been with the others. "Viola, vhy vere you crying?"  
  
"I vasn't crying!"  
  
He stroked his hand over her wet cheek. "That felt like tears to me. Viola, you vere alvays a dear friend of mine. I vought you could tell me anything. Ve're friends. That hasn't changed."  
  
Viola blinked her golden eyes. Kurt had been a good friend of hers since she was a young elf, but then status didn't matter. But now, things were different.  
  
"Kurt...things have changed. You're a...a..."  
  
"Nightcrawler," he finished. He didn't need to hear it anymore. It was enough that he was one born different. That, in an elfin clan, wasn't too terrible, but not too great either. What had brought him to shame was his mother's brink in tradition. Elves were terribly proud of being their own masters, due to a history of living in slavery, and to them there was nothing worse than to work for another creature even for payment. To break such tradition would be blasphemy. Kurt knew this well. That was why he was shunned from the others. His mother, may her name be erased from eternity, had listened to a band humans who were searching for those born different, saying that only when they were banded together could they stop the hate of the commons. His mother jumped on the chance, leaving him, as an infant, to be cared for by the rest of the clan. Therefore, he became an outcast.   
  
By elfin tradition, when he reached manhood, as he already had, he must search for his food separate from the others by only going out at night and sleep in a tiny camp separate from the rest as to not contaminate the other elves with his dangerous ways. The scrounging for food, crawling around blindly through the dark, earned this position the name "nightcrawler", and Kurt was known as thusly.  
  
Lady Viola had his friend since they were very small, but for Kurt, it was always something more. She was kind, beautiful, proud, and gentle. He loved her. But she did not love him. She couldn't love him. He was a freak. A different. A nightcrawler. Besides, her heart belonged to one and one only: the elfin prince. It seemed though, that since he had reached manhood, Viola had done nothing but ignore him. She'd no longer even speak with him, as she'd used to.   
  
"If I am a nightcrawler," Kurt said after a moment of silence, "it shouldn't matter that I know."  
  
"True," Viola sighed, "true."  
  
"Can you tell me? Maybe I can help, ja?"  
  
"There is nothing you can do! At the prince's manhood ceremony, there vill be an announcement of his engagement!"  
  
"And he vill not marry you?"  
  
"No. He vill marry Amelia."  
  
Amelia was an elf of an ancient warrior family line.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"No you're not!" Viola screamed.  
  
The rage boiled up in him. It was hard enough to listen to the elf of his dreams ramble on about the one whom she loved. Now she accused him of not caring. He cared. More than she'd ever know. "You're right. I'm not. I'm never good enough for you."   
  
"Kurt! Get your head out of the gutter! You're a nightcrawler! Act your place!"  
  
"Right. Go ahead and step on me too, ja." ::BAMF::  
  
"Kurt! Come back!" Viola called.  
  
::BAMF::  
  
"Viola, please listen to me. I love you!"  
  
Viola glared at him. "You are a fool, Kurt. A real fool! Mien Gott! You're a nightcrawler lusting after a lady of the elfin court. You can sit around pretending you give a damn about me, but I know vat you're really after, you different monster!" She pushed him into the river, in a burst of furry. She hardly knew why she was so angry. Kurt had done nothing wrong. But she was so stressed, and he was a nightcrawler. She could be mad at him because he was there. That was the way the world worked. She needed to reason to be angry at him, and he could not dare to speak against her.  
  
With a splat, he hit the freezing, rushing river and was dragged along by the current. He had hit his head on a rock, and was rather dizzy.   
  
He could hear Viola back at the bank, screaming and calling his name, but for some reason, she didn't seem to matter anymore. He realized that he had spent half his life dreaming about someone who only cared about herself. ::BAMF:: He teleported to the camp where he stayed by himself. He knew why Viola had pushed him in. Although it was half from shock due to his confession, the other half was to release the stress she had accumulated with the problem of the prince being married. Suddenly, the elfin clan felt extremely cold, and it wasn't just do to the breeze against his wet skin. He was sick of being picked on because of some mistake his mother had made. The next day, Viola would pretend nothing had happened and be his friend again. She would take advantage of his friendly shoulder to lean on, and his good listening skills.   
  
He changed into dry clothes and then walked over to the main camp. Sighing, he took his place next to an elder elf, Rosard. He was the oldest in the tribe, and wise beyond years. His hair had long since turned white, and the blueness of his skin had steadily faded.   
  
"She rejected you again, no?"  
  
"Ja. She did."  
  
"She'll reject you every time."  
  
"I don't care anymore."  
  
"So it finally hit you!  
  
" 'bout as hard as that stone in the river ven she pushed me in!"  
  
"She did? Schweinehund!"  
  
"Ja."  
  
"I'm sorry, Kurt."  
  
"Ja. Me too."  
  
"You'll be leaving now?"  
  
"Vho said anything about leaving?"  
  
"Vell, I thought it vas a given. I thought you saw that all they do is blame stuff on you. There's nothing for you here, Kurt. You're a good kid. I'd hate to see a good kid go to vaste."  
  
"But if I go, they'll all say that it vas because I vas a bad seed. I vould never be able to come back if I left."  
  
"Vhy vould you vant to come back? Vhy do you care vat people who mean nothing to you think of you?"  
  
"But how can I leave everything I've ever known?"  
  
"It'll not be easy. But if I vas you, I vould have left years ago. Elfin clans are all rules and tradition. No creativity. I vould leave now, now that I see this. But I'm too old."  
  
"So you vant me to live your dream for you, is that it" Kurt was shocked.   
  
"Is that really to much to ask from he who fathered you ven no one else vould?"  
  
Kurt sighed. Rosard had been his foster father since his mother had abandoned him. Kurt looked up to him for advice and knowledge. Of course, running away would be better for him in the long run. As long as he stayed with the clan, he would be like a punching bag, something for people to take out aggression on. If all Rosard wanted before the goddesses came to reclaim his soul was to know of the world away from the clans, then surely Kurt owed him that one tiny favor. He shut his eyes and began to walk back to his camp.  
  
"Kurt! Vhere are you going?"  
  
"To pack. I leave at dawn."  
  
***  
  
Remy LeBeau stared at the note. In the dim light, he looked her words, scrawled in hurried, messy cursive, in black ink. He noticed that some parts of it had run slightly. She had been crying. Rogue crying? He couldn't believe it. Lady Rogue was strong enough to escape when she needed to, and she cried over a little thing like that note. It was touching. He didn't know long he had sat there, just thinking. The reality of her leaving hadn't hit him yet. Now, he was still in shock. Never, never, in five thousand hells had it occurred to him that something like this would happen.   
  
Lost in thought, he didn't hear the approaching foot steps. He didn't hear the creaking door. Suddenly, his hands were pinned behind his back.  
  
"Lovely night, isn't it?" a feminine voice asked.  
  
"Merde!" he muttered, "La catin!"   
  
"Don't think your harsh words can scare me, thief! Don't think I don't know who you are! You came back for her didn't you?"  
  
" 'Ello, Lady Raven, it is such a lovely night that I think I'll jus' go for un petit soujourn!" He tried to rise from the chair to no avail.  
  
"Not until you lead me to the girl!"  
  
Remy struggled and finally broke out of her grip, and rushed to the window, leaping outside and ricocheting down the walls of the estate. Unfortunately, when he landed, he noted that he was surrounded by several of Lady Raven Darkholme's guards.  
  
"damnent!"  
  
***  
  
Lightning at midnight had awakened the Lady Rogue. The rain had pounded down in droplets that could soak your hand. She had hugged the blanket closer to her and pressed into the ground, praying that somehow she could push herself deep down, away from the rain. The dirt was sopping with rainwater, and she shivered in the night air.   
Her body longed for warmth. Sighing, she rolled over next to where Sugah knelt down in sleep. It wasn't great, but the giant creature gave off some heat. Rain splashed around her, soaking the blanket and chilling her to her bones. There was nothing she could do. She knew that only a fool would seek shelter under the nearby trees, due to the rages of lighting, and there was no dry place other than the sheltering trees. Due to exhaustion, she eventually slipped into a restless, feverish sleep.  
  
***  
  
She was a tiny form sitting on a clouded silver day-break mist. Pale with a hint of a silver glow, hair that curled in many chocolate ringlets past her buttocks, and silver-cerulean eyes graced her figure. Sage-like, silver glinting, beautiful, wild. She was the foam on the sea, the thorn of the rose, the glint of rainbow in a perfectly white pearl. She was the change. The catalyst. It was never easy, but all things must change. Flowers fade. Friends change. Technology advances. They all march on into entropy. It all changes. We can't do anything about it. Even she couldn't completely do something about it. Change happens for everything: deity and mortal; plant and animal. No one can avoid it.   
  
Pensively, she looked down at the rain-kissed earth below. Her sister had been at tireless work. Perhaps soon the hard slaps of rain would turn into caresses of sunlight. She looked piteously at Rogue. The poor thing! There was nothing she needed more now than to be caressed. Perhaps all that would change too...someday. Prophesy, heart, and soul willing. Hopefully the rain would let up soon.   
  
But with the true oracle gone, it was doubtful her sister would clear up anytime soon. Lightena had quite a temper at times. The catalyst shifted her gaze to where her sister sat on a pile of storm clouds, watching her handy work.  
  
"What will you do?" the young Catalyst asked with interest, "You cannot keep punishing the world like this."  
  
"I will not rest until this blasphemy is righted."   
  
The two watched from perches of morning mist and storm clouds. Unspoken, they were both afraid. For years, all had worked like clock work, but now, now, things had exploded into strange depths. Even the holy ones were afraid. There was nothing to do now but watch and wait. Both of their contacts with earth, the fourth and the fifth, were in grave danger.   
  
***  
  
Steel cold bars and strong icy chains surrounded her. Hard unforgiving stone, and bare, empty blackness. This is what she awoke to. She didn't know how long she had been asleep. All she knew was that she was not where she was when she fell asleep. Where had she been? It was clouded in the mists of her mind.   
  
She tried to stand up, but it was in vain. She had been chained to the wall. A caged bird who wanted nothing more than to fly.   
  
Not completely alert, due to the sleeping drug, it took her a few moments for it all to sink in.   
  
Stone walls. Steel bars. Strong chains. Pitch-black, devastating darkness.   
  
"In the name of the goddess, how did I get here?" she wondered.   
  
She remembered very little. Faded pictures she couldn't quite reach. Where was here? Where was Logan?  
  
***  
  
"Leme get this strait, bub!" The Captain of the Guard thundered at the messenger, "Y' askn' me to get mixed in this oracle fluff and find d' girl who doesn't want a part in it either?" He sat on a table in the royal stables, polishing his sword so that it gleamed bright in the sunlight of the afternoon.  
  
"What I am asking you to do, Sir Logan, is to find the Lady Rogue and bring her home so that she can fulfill her duty to society! And don't you let anyone hear you call the great oracles fluff! That would be blasphemy worth execution!" The outraged messenger from the House of Miracles look horrified as he stared at the muscular, massive, yet short captain of the king's guard.  
  
"Listen bub, I only believe in one god, and that's this!" He said protruding a single claw from his hands.  
  
"You believe in strength over the five great deities?" cried the messenger who was beginning to fear the captain immensely.  
  
"It don' let y' down, and ya don't have to pray to get it."   
  
"Are you saying that you will not help us find the fifth oracle?" the messenger was furious.  
  
"I'm not helping you walk 'round like a fool, dat's what you mean!"   
  
"You ought to be usurped from your station and exiled for such blasphemy!" the man screamed in disgust and stomped out of the stable. Sir Logan could barely contain his laughter.  
  
*Logan, you really did give him a scare*   
  
"I hate it when he does that," Logan muttered, still not used to King Charles Xavier's thought speech.  
  
*Be careful, I'm not sure how many more people you can afford to annoy. At lunch the other day, the Lord of Cyclops was none too happy with your flirtations with the future wife of his son. I know what you're thinking, that it doesn't matter. But ever since the discovery of the fourth oracle, you've been acting too friendly with her. Don't think I haven't noticed.*  
  
"Don't mention Ororo!" He growled.  
  
*It's hard for you to admit it, I know.*  
  
"I don know what you're implying, majesty, bu' I kno I it's not true."  
  
***  
  
Back in the throne room, the king laughed heartily. Soon, soon, Logan would ride again. It was a shame. It would have been good to have him for the council. Knowing those who would be coming, there was, as sure as he was alive, to be fire and brimstone.  
  



	6. Interlude: Mythology

Author's note: Umm...yeah. Since the goddesses really appeared in the last chapter, I thought it made sense to add a little mythology to this story. This is the creation myth of Xodus. I guess it's kinda a combo of Greek Mythology and the Garden of Eden story. Read this with an open mind. Remember, this is just a fanfic, not a religious sermon nor a theory of creation. Thank you.   
  
  
--Interlude: Mythology--  
  
  
_ Long ago when the world was barren, the great mother, Ghea, grew lonely. As a young maiden, she walked the earth, young and wild, bare skin baking in the sun. Then, when she matured, the Lord of the Sky took notice. In hopes of appeasing her, he gave her a gift. He took five of his most prized possessions, the diamonds of the sky, and held them out to her.  
  
"These," he explained, "are seeds. Plant them in the earth and water them with your tears. They are the seeds of the universe. Tend them carefully, and they will grow."  
  
When she received the precious gift, she wept tears of joy. She planted the star seeds and slowly they grew. They grew like flowers with violet stems. Stems of amethyst sparkling in the sunlight of the eyes of the Lord of the Sky.   
  
His plan had worked. At night, when the lord could afford to turn away his sun-fire eyes, he lay with her, while his brother, Old Man Moon, did the watching over the earth.   
  
Day by day, the flowers grew. Night by night, Ghea lay with the Lord of the Sky, Sun Fire. Soon, the Amethyst stalks gave way to pale, silver buds.  
  
She continued to water them with her tears.   
  
After months and months of this ecstasy, the buds burst open into translucent rainbow petals that sparkled like gossamer wings. In the center of each flower, was a young girl. Ghea immediately dubbed the girls her daughters. Soon, she saw that each of her daughters had a talent.  
  
The eldest was Physhica. She could control all things physical, setting it in a pattern of right. Night followed day, gravity held Ghea to earth, and the stars glimmered in the sky.  
  
Next, came Chandrika, lady of light, also born with great power. She could move light and darkness, as well as righteousness. She felt thoughts and dealt with emotion, trying to keep all at balance so that light remained stronger than dark.  
  
The third was Stikare, who gave life by creating energy. She charged life into the earth and made it have the power to support life of its own.  
  
Next came Lightena, who sustained life. She would cry and create storms of rage to temper the balance. Also, she'd take some of the warmth from Lord Sun Fire and give it to the earth in a gentle, motherly caress. It was storms of rain and storms of heat that kept life flowing.   
The youngest, however, was remarkable. The fifth goddess. She, perhaps, had the hardest and most misunderstood talent. Change. Her name was Cataly. She made sure that no matter what happened, things changed. This change was important, because if things stay the same for too long, they rot and dry out and loose their life force. It hurt her so much sometimes, but she knew that sometimes things had to change.  
  
Ghea loved her daughters and raised them well, for she knew that now, through her evenings of ecstasy, she contained new seeds within her, the seeds that would create plants and animals. But because these daughters of hers had come out of the stars, they had power and talent. They would live forever, as would their mother. Ghea knew that while only she could nurture all the life that would soon live on earth, only her daughters could sustain it with physical order, light and righteousness, power and energy, water and sun, and constant, gentle, lesson-teaching change. So they would live as goddesses and protect Ghea's children as they lived on earth.  
  
However, Lord Sun Fire was furious. In this new world, now teeming with life, he had no control over it. Furthermore, Ghea was now content to stay day and night preparing for the new life to arrive, and readying her daughters for the great task before them. He grew to hate the beautiful young girls who took up all of Ghea's thoughts. So he devised a plan to counteract all their plans and preparations. He took a sixth star seed from the sky and planted it on earth. Then, he struck Ghea down and watered the seed with her blood. The seed grew quickly, into a stem as red as the blood spilled by the earth mother, and petals like a rose, except, very peculiarly, this rose was black as ebony coal. Instead of a beautiful young maiden, however, this one contained a handsome young boy. A boy with eyes as black as the flower he grew inside. The maidens understood who he was when they looked at him. The earth mother, weakened from loss of blood, understood.  
  
In his anger, Lord Sun Fire had created Sadisto, death, pain, and chaos. From the time the boy opened his eyes, he darted to the girls and attempted to stab them with the tail of a comet, to no avail. The five goddesses, at least for the moment, were stronger than this young boy who was just born. But the boy grew stronger and stronger.   
  
Eventually, Ghea had her children. First, there was plants. Then bacteria. Then animals. Finnally, humans. The five goddesses watched over the life was interest and compassion, treating each and every creature like their children. They knew that for their children to grow strong, they must temper mercy with justice and teach them lessons.  
  
Sadisto was unhappy. The five wise goddesses kept the pain and suffering on earth to a minimum, only hurting when it was necessary. He wanted the chaos to begin. So, he had a plan. He knew that the only way for him to be unleashed on earth would be for a human to release him. Hiding himself in a delicious, pure-looking red apple, he journied to earth. A young maiden found the apple, and was tempted to bite its crimson flesh. One could not blame her. The apple was perhaps the most perfect ever created. Anyone would have eaten it if given the chance. However, with the first bite, Sadisto escaped and was let loose on the world. The five goddesses tried to work together to bring him at bay, but he had already spread throughout the world. So they constantly battled, trying to keep suffering, death, and chaos under control. But they cannot always keep him chained up. Once in a while, he runs free and takes or ruins a life. Fortunately, he is never completely free, and the goddesses can protect us all from him most of the time.  
  
And so, in a burst of happiness, blood, pain and revenge, the world came to be. _  
  
To a few, there always seemed to be something wrong with this creation myth. What was the purpose of those born different? 


	7. The King's Council

  
Author's note- Nothing much to say about this chapter. It's shorter than the others, but it's alright. Yeah. Oh yes, review it please! If you read it, review it! Por favor! Si vous plait! Pllllllllllllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssssse!   
  
  
--Chapter 4: The King's Council--  
  
  
The King sat at the head of the long table, and stared at the many lords and ladies of his kingdom. They were there to discuss, to vote, to decide the fate of the country. They were the council. King Charles Xavier sighed and began to take roll.  
  
"Lord Alexander of Cyclops."  
  
"Present"  
  
"Lord Walter of Pheonix."  
  
"Here."  
  
"Lady Raven of Miracles."  
  
"I'm here."  
  
"Lord Kelly of Commons."  
  
"Present, your majesty."  
  
"Lady Amberasia of Tempesta."  
  
"At your service, my lord."  
  
"Lady Lee of Sparx."  
  
"I am here."  
  
"Lord Pryde of Kythe."  
  
"Here."  
  
"Lord Magneto of Stelen."  
  
"Present."  
  
"Very well then. I thank you all, ladies and gentlemen, for coming. I hope you understand the seriousness of this meeting of the council."  
  
The members nodded gravely.  
  
"Your majesty, if you will, I wish to bring up a point," Lord Kelly of Commons said calmly but soon his voice gave way into a yell, "Why the devil are all the oracles, the messengers of the goddesses no doubt, ones born different? Explain how this could be! Perhaps they have planned together to get political power."  
  
Several of the council members glared at him. Although there were no known differents present (as the king kept his powers a secret from all but a few trusted ones), many of the council members had sons and daughters of the different variety.   
  
"Don't give me that look, Cyclops!" Kelly continued, "You would agree with me if it wasn't for your son! Your son who will put the needs of his kind before those of the common folk! Ever thought of that? Your majesty, I'd like to take the opportunity to mention that Commons will not remain a part of Xodus if Scott Summers becomes our next king.  
  
"That goes for me as well," Lady Amberasia spoke up, "but I'd be willing to compromise. If Scott becomes king, I will not succeed if he does not marry Jean Grey. If we have a woman to rule beside him who is not a different, perhaps the judgment will be evened out."  
  
"Are you questioning my daughter's integrity?" the lord of Phoenix spoke up.  
  
"She is a different. Differents only think about their own will. If she is queen, and Scott is king, who knows what disasters will befall the kingdom." Lady Amberasia retorted.  
  
"I'm glad to see that I am not the only one with clear judgment in this room," Lord Kelly said.  
  
"Clear judgment?" the Lord of Cyclops was infuriated, "Was your judgment clear when you made the proposition that only Commons and Tempesta be aloud to remain on the council because their heirs were not of the different persuasion? Was it clear when you challenged the king's authority to rule last council? You bigot!"  
  
"It's clearer than all of you who only want your children to have power and refuse to think of the effects it will have on the kingdom! If I had my way, they would be dead!"  
  
"You're a sadist!" Lord Pryde yelled.  
  
"Traitor!"  
  
Lord Cyclops was furious, "Murderer! Sadistic murderer! I wouldn't be surprised if you were behind the treasonous attack of my estate you bastard!"  
  
"I'll kill him!" He screamed and drew his sword. Lady Lee screamed. One of the mirrors in the room cracked.  
  
"Enough!" bellowed the King, "Lord Kelly, Lord Alexander, will you please take your seats!"  
  
The entire time, Lord Magneto had smiled knowingly at King Xavier. The king looked at him back with an expressionless face, but Magneto got the pleasure of knowing that he had won.  
  
"Very well, your majesty," Lord Kelly was slightly embarrassed at his outburst, "but remember that I will succeed."  
  
"That is a matter to be discussed at a later time, Lord Kelly. We have more important matters to talk about. As it stands, I have no intention of changing my decision, nor can I lord over Scott and tell him whom to marry. If a war breaks out, it will be at your own hands. Now let's get down to business, shall we?"  
  
"What sort of business are we talking about?" Lord Kelly was shocked that this discussion was not to revolve around the heir to the throne.  
  
"The fifth oracle, of course," Lady Raven spoke up.  
  
"Yes, your daughter," Lord Pryde said rather disrespectfully. He had no sympathy for the Lady of Miracles for he had given up his daughter as the first oracle when the girl was thirteen. Her name had been Katherine. Not even the pain of other families as they had given their children up had eased his suffering. He had loved his little daughter whose life had just begun.  
  
"Rogue truly acts like her namesake," Lady Lee scoffed, "running away from duty." Lady Lee had given her daughter, Jubilation, as the third oracle at an even younger age. She had never gotten to see her girl grow up and therefore felt no sympathy to Lady Raven for Rogue's reckless behavior. The only council members who had no emotional tie to their oracle was Lady Amberasia of Tempesta and the house of Mist, with the fourth oracle, the oracle of storms, and Lord Walter of Embyr and the house of Phoenix with the second oracle, the oracle of light.  
  
Lady Raven glared, "She's insolent, I admit. Perhaps if I had let her out at a young age, she'd be quicker to obey. I thought I could control her."  
  
"She's a different! That should explain everything!" Lord Kelly brought up the tender subject again, but was ignored.  
  
"Furthermore, I am informed that the captain of your guard refused to help find my daughter," Lady Raven accused.  
  
"Sir Logan's job is to guard the castle, not to deal with domestic affairs," the king simply said, "Why aren't your guards looking?"  
  
"They are your majesty, but she's a slippery eel."  
  
"Your majesty, if I may interrupt, I'm just curious as to know what you anticipate to happen when we do apprehend Lady Rogue and make her take her place as the fifth oracle," Lady Amberasia asked.  
  
"In truth, I know not. But the effects of the discovery of Lady Rogue are already being felt. There is a summoning," the King said sagely.  
  
"A summoning of what?" Lady Lee asked.  
  
"The summoning of X, of course," the kings voice was mysterious and cryptic.  
  
"What will X do? I don't see any chaos!" Lord Kelly exclaimed.  
  
"I know not. Perhaps there is chaos going on before our very eyes and we just don't see because we're all blind to it."  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I wish I could comfort you with words of confidence, but I'm afraid I have to be realistic. When the fifth oracle is found, not I, not you, not event the oracles have power over what happens. Whatever may happen, we will be in the hands of the goddesses," the king said gravely.  
  
There was an uncomfortable mumble around the table, and suddenly the room felt much colder. There is nothing hated more by authority than the feeling of being at the mercy of something they cannot control. The fear was so thick that it was nearly tangible. Lady Raven finally broke the silence.  
  
"Shall I continue my efforts to locate the oracle?"  
  
The king nodded, "I believe that this will be the best approach. Very well. Unless anyone else has a concern, the meeting is adjourned."  
  
No one spoke up.   
  
Rising and delicately moving their hand from their head, to their heart, and stretched it out before them, each and every member chanted, "May you go with the goddesses." Then, everyone rose and left their separate ways. Few spoke on the way out, the chill of the turn of events. Only Lord Magneto stayed behind.  
  
"If that wasn't more proof of what I have told you, I don't know what is!" he began.  
  
"Joseph! I have no desire to hear it!"  
  
"How can you expect to rule a kingdom like this? These commons want nothing to do with our kind! They'll kill us all if we don't stop them!"   
  
"I've told you this before, Joseph. If we do not work for peace, we'll never find it. Simple as that."  
  
"What will you do when they find out about you? When the assassins come after you in the night?"  
  
"Pray that Logan is on the prowl."  
  
"Listen to Lord Kelly! What can you do if you can't even trust your own council?"  
  
"I pray. I hope. I have faith. That's all any of us can do. I bid you good day, Joseph."  
  
The king vanished into the hallway, and Magneto left soon afterward.  
  
***  
  
Lady Raven smiled at the tied up figure next to her as the carriage sped away toward the city of miracles.  
  
"So, are you interested in talking now?"  
  
"Mais non! Not now, not ever!"  
  
"You're as stubborn as she is!"  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
"Show me that note you were so intently reading last night."  
  
"A man has a right to his privacy!"  
  
"Not when he is a hostage, I'm afraid." She reached into Remy's pocked and pulled out the carefully folded note, while starting to unfold it. He grinned as it exploded in her face.  
  
"Why you!" She screamed.  
  
In a burst of strength, he slipped through the ropes and leapt through the carriage window, rolling down the side of the road and slipping out of sight.  
  
"Fool!" Lady Raven laughed.  
  
"But m'lady, he got away," her driver began.  
  
"He'll go straight for her! He'll lead us right to the kill!"  
  
"But what if he doesn't know where she is?" the driver asked.  
  
"Of course he doesn't. But he's a thief. Thieves can find anything that is of value to them in some way. In this case, it is of extremely important value."  
  
"So what do you want to do?"  
  
"I want you to track him. But unharness one of the horses. I have an important journey to make."  
  
The coachman unhooked a chesnut stallion named Yank, and Lady Raven Darkholme, rode bareback into the distance.  
  
When she was a safe distance away, she began to change. Blue skin. Red hair. Elfin qualities. Then, she changed again. Cocoa, velvety skin. Silver white hair. Off to the temple of the fourth oracle. She didn't count on Logan being there.  
  



	8. Flames

Author's note- No interlude between chapters 4 and 5. Why? Because nothing seemed to fit there. So I'm breaking the pattern. Variety is a good thing ^_^. Hey, if anyone here takes French and knows the verb endings for regular verbs, I'd like to know them. I remember very little French because I haven't touched the language for three years, and would like to try and be semi-accurate with gambit-speech. I'll be your best friend if you could email them to me or post them in a review! ^_^ Anyway, here's chapter 5. Suspense amounts! Enjoy everyone!   
  
  
--Chapter 5: Flames--  
  
It had been a shock to find the temple empty. The sacred temple of storms, beautiful and elegant was empty of the oracle. Sir Logan saw that in a flash. Sniffing the air, he realized that she hadn't been in there for at least a weak. He scent was faint. Very faint. Jean's scent was there, but he had known that she had gone to visit Ororo earlier so it was to be expected. But there was another scent too, this one unfamiliar. Cold. Hard. Not quite human. His ears pricked up as he heard the sound of an opening door.   
  
"Who's there?" he called fiercely.  
  
"Just me...Logan." the voice answered seeming unsure of the name. Ororo's voice. He sniffed again. Not her scent. It smelled wrong. Very wrong.   
  
She stepped into the candlelight, revealing herself as Ororo. She appeared exactly like her. Chocolate skin. Snow hair. Ororo. No doubt of it. But her scent was wrong. She was lovely in the candlelight. Pale silver-white robe with a gold chord belt, and headdress of silver with a gold lightning bolt chain hanging right between her eyes. But it wasn't her. It was an illusion. He was sure of it.   
  
"Where were ya darlin'?" he said after a moment of silence, "thought oracles weren't supposed to leave their temple!"  
  
"I was just walking. That's all."  
  
"Thought they locked the temple from the outside," his voice wasn't threatening, but confident, as one who knew that he was winning, "Only reason why I got in was 'cause I could slash the lock."  
  
"Really, Logan, did you think that could keep me out?"  
  
So much like her. He wanted to believe it. But he knew it wasn't. The mockery was infuriating. The savage beast in him couldn't take it. How dare this...creature...try and fool him! The fury grew.  
  
"You're really somethin'. I would never have guessed if it wasn't for your scent!" his voice became fierce.  
  
"Whatever do you mean?"   
  
::SKNT:: Claws of adamantium flashed in the candlelit temple, sharp ends flashing dangerously close to her dark neck. "Who the hell are you?"  
  
He could have sworn a knowing smile crossed her lips right before the African skin and pale hair faded and became blue with flaming red hair. She winked at him before turning into an exact mirror image of himself, and then aimed her own claws up flinging his hand back.   
  
"In hell's name what the fuck are you? What did you do with Ro?"   
  
The creature sneered and whispered in a challenging tone, "Some call me traitor of tradition. Some call me temptress elf. Some call me shape shifter of evil. I prefer Mystique, myself."   
  
Claws swiped in fury. Claw to claw. Fist to fist.   
  
"You didn't answer me! What the hell did you do with Ororo?"  
  
"That's a secret you'll never know!"   
  
He sprung at her in rage knocking her into the row of sacred candles. They toppled to the floor, the flame catching onto the wooden floor of the temple. A ring of fire, flames leaping and dancing in the dusk surrounded Sir Logan. Mystique grinned at him. She was not in the circle of dancing flames which began to leap higher and higher as they ravenously devoured the wooden floor below. Transforming back into her elfin form, she grin haughtily at the trapped Wolverine.   
  
"Careless fool!" she scoffed before slipping out the door and rushing into the night.   
  
In a rage, Logan rushed through the flames, ignoring the burning sensation as they charred his hairy flesh. Soon the burn marks softened and became pick scars, and slowly back to his normal skin tone. But it was too late. Mystique had already disappeared into the night.   
  
Sniffing the air, he mounted Mariko and rode after her. She had unleashed his rage, his animalistic, dark side, and he would not stop until he had her blood. The only thing that may have quieted him down could have been Ororo's return. He would not rest until she was found.   
  
As he rode off, the citizens of Tempesta began to open their windows and doors. They rushed out and crowded around the temple. Their temple. Their precious temple. The temple of the oracle. The temple that many had worked so hard to complete to every perfect detail. Once it had shone in radiance. But now it only shone with the engulfing, enveloping flames. Several children began to cry that the goddess had abandoned them. Most of the adults did not cry, but had the same thoughts as well. Couples held each other closely in helplessness. The oracle of storms was the legacy of Tempesta. Now it was being chared to ashes.  
  
***  
  
It was two days before Rogue awoke. They had been the two longest days of his life. She had been weak from hunger, exhaustion, and fear, and sleeping outside on a cold, rainy , lightning-filled night under a sopping wet saddle blanket hadn't improved her condition at all. He was afraid she would never wake up. He sat in the tent he had made; close to the little fire that glowed in the twilight, as he stirred a pot of makeshift stew. Fortunately, she had stopped to rest not very far from a spot where he had set up camp earlier on his journey to Miracles, and had been able to retrieve a bag of wild rice from his emergency provisions. The silence was almost tangible. Not a leaf from a tree or a gust of wind disturbed it.  
  
Suddenly, there was the rustle on the straw pallet where he had lain her down, and kept watchful vigil over her. A tiny moan, weak and muffled, escaped from her lips.  
  
"So you've come back, chère." He whispered.  
  
"R...r...r...remy..." she could barely speak.  
  
"Oui, chère."  
  
Her eyes blinked several times before opening.  
  
"Mon dieu! Tres vert! I had forgotten..." he marveled at her eyes.  
  
"How did you get here?" she asked, trying to sound tough despite her obvious invulnerability.  
  
"I jus' happened to find your note, chère. But that wasn' enough. Gambit not rest 'til he found the real treasure."  
  
"Flattery won't get you nowhere, thief!" she attempted to sit up and face him.  
  
"Easy, chère. Don' move so quickly. You're too weak."  
  
"Ah'm fine! Honestly, swamp-rat! Ah've no need for these precautions!" she said, but her words faded as she broke into a coughing spell.  
  
"If ya call a fever, starvation, and chill fine, chère, then you be perfect!"  
  
Rogue relented slightly. "How long have I been asleep?"  
  
"Duex jours, ma pet'te."  
  
"Two days!" she sputtered between coughs.  
  
"Oui. Now jus' relax chère. Remy be fixing un petit diner."  
  
"Dinner!" the thought of food was shocking. Rogue had not eaten solid food in five days, "What kind of dinner?"  
  
He smiled weakly, "Ragout de riz." (A.N.- hope I got the grammar right there ^_^)  
  
"Which would be what?"  
  
"Rice stew."  
  
"lovely." Her voice was sarcastic.  
  
"Ma pet'te, what did ya expect in de middle of de wilderness? Fillet Minion, non?"  
  
She mustered a laugh, then lay her head back on the pallet in exhaustion. "You didn't need to do this, Remy. Ah can take care of myself."  
  
"I hardly call lie'n in a wet blanket in a lightning storm half dead takn' care of yourself, chère."  
  
She groaned slightly and shut her eyes. He turned toward her and lay a gloved hand on her head and stroked her hair.  
  
"Remy wake you up when dinner's ready," He whispered. He could rest easily now. She was alive.  
  
***  
  
Open air. Beautiful, fresh and clean air. Air not filled with incense, or the scent of burnt offerings. It filled her lungs as she stepped through the wall. It was a stormy night, and scented damp, but for the poor imprisoned oracle, it was beautiful. She was the first oracle: Katherine.   
  
Once a week, she trusted herself to phase through the walls of the temple and walk at night. She knew, of course, that she couldn't do it for very long. She'd be betraying her duty to her city...to her father. But truthfully, she'd rather run through flame and fire than return to her holy prison. She only trusted herself for a single night, knowing full well if she had too large a taste of freedom, she would surely run away. And then she would be betraying everyone.   
  
Yes it was a prison, a beautiful, purified, elegant cage. She was like a cat in many ways: couldn't bare to be locked up. Walking stealthily in the shadows, she walked to the edge of the hill the temple stood on and looked at the city of Kythe below. In the moonlight she could see tiny houses with adobe clay roofs, made of mud brick, windows illuminated with candles and lanterns. She could see the tall, green clock tower, carved elegantly with the visage of the eldest goddess. Physica.   
  
Talking to the goddess was a curious thing. Even after having done it for years, Katherine was by no means used to it. She did not hate the goddess for doing this to her, as the first thing she learned was that the temples were the work of human speculation and not of the deities themselves. Physica was with her no matter what, speaking to her words of wisdom, prophesy, and comfort. Her melodious, omnipotent voice sang to Katherine at night when sleep would not find her. The goddess' soft, otherworldly hands would stroke her brow like a mother when she felt that she could not live imprisoned for very much longer.   
  
"Goddess, will I ever be free?"  
  
The voice answering was breathy and mysterious, "Soon, my child. Soon. Patience. It will all come in good time. Wisdom will release you."  
  
"Wisdom? But I have learned so much from you! How much more wisdom will I need to release me from this prison?"   
  
Although she could not see the goddess, something in Katherine told her she was smiling.   
  
"Come, Kitty, child, walk the streets like the stealthy cat you are! If you insist of returning at day break, you haven't much time."  
  
Katherine smiled at the nickname and took the first step toward the city below, her pale blue oracle robe brushing the ground. She didn't know that the goddess' eyes were not the only pair upon her that night.  
  
"So, little Kitty. Cat of the night. Shadow cat. Soon it will be the time for us to meet." He whispered.  
  
***  
  
"Daddy! You're home!" Jean cried with joy as the great procession finally reached the estate. She ran into the courtyard to greet him.   
  
"Yes Jean! I have returned."  
  
She hugged him lovingly, like a daughter should. "How did the council go?" She knew what the answer to his question would be. One didn't need the sight to guess.  
  
"Not very promising, I'm afraid."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"That sadistic bastard Lord Kelly and that simple-minded Lady Amberasia! Now tell me, Jean, when you are queen, will you rule with Xodus in your best interest or in your own interest?"  
  
"Well...I...mean if I become queen of course I would rule with Xodus in mind, but daddy..."  
  
"What is it with this if? You are a lady of noble breed, Jean. You were born to rule! Why do you say if?"  
  
"Why is it a must that I will be queen? Don't I have a choice in the matter? But no! It's expected of me. All I hear these days is 'you are a queen, Jean, act like one' or 'You are to rule this kingdom, be sure to hold yourself with pride'! I'm sick of it! Utterly sick and tired of it!  
  
Her father was about to respond when Scott rode up on his horse.  
  
"I'm sorry to intrude, my lord, my lady, but something terrible has happened! The temple of storms has caught fire!"  
  
"No..you don't mean...what about Ororo?!" Jean cried.  
  
"Climb on! Maybe we can save her!" Scott urged.  
  
"We'll never reach Tepesta in time."  
  
"Tempesta is closer to Embyr than most cities. There's still a chance. Come!" He extended a hand and she mounted behind him.  
  
"I'll be back father!" she called.  
  
"Jean! Wait! We're not finished!" But the two had already ridden off into the darkness.   
  
***  
  
Meanwhile, in the dark prison, Ororo, still chained to the wall, had mostly come to her senses. There was a creak and moan, as if a door was being opened, and footsteps sounded on the cold stone floor, echoing through the cavernous dungeon.  
  
Keys rattled, and a figure appeared in the dim light.  
  
"By the goddess!" Ororo whispered, shocked at what she saw.  
  
Before her eyes was a woman with skin as dark as hers, the same garb of the oracle of storms, and even the same flowing hair as she did. It was as peering into a mirror, except the reflection could change positions as it chose.  
  
"Awake, are we?" the figure asked, in Ororo's voice.  
  
"The holy goddess' name! Who are you? Are you me?"  
  
The figure laughed in the same manner that Ororo would laugh.   
  
"No, I'm afraid I am not you."  
  
"Why am I here? How did I get here?"  
  
The figure grinned mockingly, "You will soon see. For now, I have a proposition to make."  
  
***  
  
Kurt wasn't sure what he sought. He didn't even know where he was going. Perhaps it was to find his mother. Yes. That must have been it. As he approached Xodus, he thought over what had happened. He had left home. He had left everything he had ever known. His blue feet ached, as he walked along, swinging his tail behind him in rhythm to some silent song. It would be so much easier if he knew where his mother was. In that way, he could use his power, the transport, to go there. But he couldn't. Sighing, he decided to set up camp right on the outskirts of the kingdom. He was too tired to go any father.  
  
***  
  
Looking at the sky, the man shut his eyes. He couldn't do it. He couldn't kill her. He didn't understand it. He had never had trouble killing anyone before. But he couldn't kill her. The assignment was simple. Nothing out of the ordinary. What made it so special that he couldn't raise his knife?  
  
The assignment had been a typical one. Kill the first oracle. No different from killing, say, the Marquis de Lawrance or the Duke of Wilthryn. But something stopped him. What power did this normal girl possess that made her any different? He was no religious man. He knew that the girl had no protection from any sort of spirit, higher being, or goddess.  
  
What made this...shadow cat, as thought of her fondly, so special that he couldn't kill her. Instead, something in him wanted nothing more than to open the door to her wooden cage and set the Kitty free.  
  



	9. Interlude: Waiting for Wisdom

Author's note- Back to tradition! ^_^  
  
  
--Interlude: Waiting for Wisdom--  
  
  
At dawn, Katherine returned to the temple of the oracle. Stepping through the wall, she reached the candelit chamber which was always dark and flopped on the blue-gray pillow of satin. Sighing, she prayed to the goddess for an audience, and the goddess obligied, appearing before her in all her glory. The two spoke in the sacred speech - the language only used between an oracle and a goddess.  
  
_Katherine: When will I have enough wisdom to be free?  
  
Physica: (laughing) time will tell, my impatient Kitty, time will tell.  
  
Katherine: I miss the outside world!   
  
Physica: I know. I know. But have faith. My child, you do know of the legend of the fifth oracle, don't you?  
  
Katherine: Yes, of course.   
  
Physica: As you know, before the fifth oracle died, she made a prophecy. A prophecy straight from my youngest sister.   
  
Katherine: Yes, the prophecy of X.  
  
Physica: Well the prophecy is coming true. New beginnings are arising. And you, my dear, are a part of it.  
  
Katherine: How so?  
  
Physica: I'm not sure. Not even Cataly is sure. But you have a part to play. That is all that is known. And there will be a summoning. Perhaps you've noticed it too. The need to journey grows stronger than ever.   
  
Katherine: Am I being summoned?  
  
Physica: Yes.  
  
Katherine: But where am I being summoned to. And for what?  
  
Physica: You will know when you find wisdom, my child.  
  
Katherine: But when will that be?  
  
Physica: Soon. You will go to the ashes of holy ground. That is all you can know.  
  
Katherine: And until then?  
  
Physica: You must wait for wisdom. Now get some rest child. Sleep. You've wandered all night.  
  
Katherine: Please my goddess! Tell me! I must know more!  
  
Physica: Perhaps you already know too much. Goodnight, Kitty, child. Pleasant dreams.  
  
_


End file.
